If You Survive
by 741N73D 4N63L
Summary: Set after my story Post Minimal Loss, this is Post Demonology. Catherine Jareau tracks down Emily Prentiss with the help of another team member. "To the living we owe respect, but to the dead, we owe only the truth." Voltaire
1. How Did You Find Me?

AN: This story takes place after my other story Post Minimal Loss. It might be helpful to read that first if you haven't already. There is a reading order list on my profile.

AN2: Normally when I name a piece of work, I pick one name and stick with it. As is evident in Black Cat. However, occasionally, I fight with a piece of work so much that it goes through several different titles. This one in particular was originally called Demonology, but I decided that that would be cheating and so I came up with a new name, Survival. It fits really well because this story is all about surviving. The reason why this story is no longer entitled Survival is because I wanted to name my final chapter "If You Survive". Which happens to be the tattoo that mein Engel has. So I asked permission to use her phrase as my chapter title and then I decided that I liked it so much that I wanted to call the entire work "If You Survive". So here we are. A new story about Emily and Catherine entitled, If You Survive and dedicated to Engel.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor do I technically own the title of my story. I don't own Winnie the Pooh either. :)

* * *

No one achieves anything alone.

So let's embark on a new journey together.

- Leslie Knope.

* * *

Tucking away her cell phone, Catherine walks up to the steps in front of a large stone church. She stops directly in front of Emily's still form and bowed head, humming softly.

Emily doesn't bother to look up; she merely stares at the boots in her line of vision. "Creirwy (kree-ree) how did you find me?" Emily asks quietly, her facial expression warring between delight and consternation.

Catherine bushes off the snow-covered step before sitting now next to Emily, unsuccessfully trying to hide her smirk, "Your phone."

"My phone?" Emily questions Catherine.

Catherine smiles happily, "Mhm, your phone and technically I didn't find you, the GPS did."

"Catherine." Emily sighs.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Okay, so that was a bad joke."

"That's not what I was going to say," ground out Emily.

"It wasn't?" asks Catherine, looking innocent.

Emily frowns, "No, I was going to ask if Garcia helped you or if you came up with this on your own?"

Catherine smirks, "No and no."

"There was only one question," says Emily with a furrowed brow.

"It was a two part question Em. You don't really want to argue semantics with someone specializing in Literature and Languages do you? "

Emily rolls her eyes, in exasperation.

Catherine continues, "Penelope did not help me but I didn't exactly come up with the idea on my own. I have no idea what has happened these past couple of days. Jen hasn't told me anything."

Emily snarls, "If you have no idea what has happened then why are you here?"

Catherine shrugs, "I thought you could use a friend right now."

"Who called you?" Emily demands.

Catherine raises an eyebrow, "Wow, you're testy tonight."

"Catherine." Emily spits out in aggravation.

Catherine rolls her eyes, mutters "Fine," and doesn't say anything else.

"Catherine," Emily starts again calmer, "who called you?"

There is a faint blush of embarrassment on Catherine's face when she replies with a whispered, "Dave."

Emily's eyes widen in astonishment, "Rossi called you?"

The 'p' of Catherine's "Yup" pops.

Emily shakes her head, "I didn't even know he had your phone number."

Catherine shrugs, "I dunno, I didn't ask. It was weird enough for my one of my sister's bosses to call me while I was at school. "

Emily looks confused, "Why were you still on campus? Don't you usually go home or come to the BAU after class?"

"I needed to do some research at the library." Catherine frowns, "I have this new replacement professor in my Classics' class who won't let us use the Internet for our papers."

Emily smirks, "Oh no! You can't use the Internet! Whatever will you do?"

Catherine pokes Emily in the ribs. "Stop mocking me Emily."

Emily's lips twitch; "Back in my day-"

Catherine interrupts Emily, looking affronted. "You did not just say that. You're not that old yet Em."

Emily rolls her eyes and says in a voice heavily laced with sarcasm, "Thanks."

Catherine smiles genially, "You are most welcome."

With a blank look on her face, Emily continues to stare out at the snow.

Shivering, Catherine asks while gesturing to the church, "Do you want to go inside?"

Emily glances at the church before focusing her gaze on Catherine. "I think I just want to sit out here alone for a little while."

"Well, you can sit out here alone but I'm going to sit here with my friend." Catherine huffs.

Emily frowns, "That was a hint for you to go away Catherine."

"I know and I'm ignoring it." Catherine smiles at Emily, "If it makes you feel any better, you can pretend it was a social cue and I'm Spencer."

Emily snorts.

"Ha! I got a laugh out of you!" Catherine crows.

Emily's lips twitch, "That was a snort not a laugh."

"Spoil sport." Catherine says sticking her tongue out.

Emily and Catherine sit in silence for a few minutes, just watching the snow fall before Catherine interrupts the silence that has settled over them like a white blanket. "Emily, you have been deflecting since I got here. Do you want to tell me why we're sitting outside in March in the snow?"

"Well, I don't know why you're here," says Emily stubbornly.

Catherine sighs, "Emily we covered that. I thought you might need a friend."

Emily frowns, "What exactly did Rossi tell you?"

With a cheeky smile Catherine says, "He reminded me to call him Dave or David and not Mr. Rossi."

"Catherine." Emily growls.

"He's right you know Em, you need someone who will listen," says Catherine, staring hard at Emily.

"And what makes you think that I don't have someone?" Emily says defensively.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Because I know you Emily Elizabeth Prentiss. You are the Queen of compartmentalization. You're sitting here in front of a church thinking God knows what. "

Emily makes a low sound in her throat, possibly a growl. "I didn't ask for help."

Catherine extends her hand tentatively towards Emily, "You don't have to ask to receive help from friends."

"I don't need anyone right now Alice," says Emily viciously.

Catherine's partially extended hand curls into a fist and she punches the side of Emily's rib cage.

Emily's breath is expelled in one quick whoosh and she winces before saying, "Fuck Catherine that hurt."

Catherine says very calmly, "If you're going to talk, then talk. If you're going to bitch, then bitch but don't attack me and not expect me to retaliate."

"I didn't attack you," protests Emily.

"Oh you didn't? So why exactly did you use my first name when you know I hate it and everything it represents?"

"I just want you to go away. I want to be alone."

"Do you know where your friends are Emily Prentiss? Do you know where the rest of the team is right now? Do you even care?"

"I just want to be left alone," says Emily in a small voice.

"Fine, I take it back you don't need a friend," says Catherine angrily.

Emily flinches.

Catherine looks at Emily through narrowed eyes, "You don't need a friend, you need your family. The team is a family. _We_ are _your_ family Emmy."

Emily, still rubbing her side, ignores Catherine.

"Well, do you want to know where they are or not?" asks Catherine, trying to get a reaction from Emily.

"What I want is to know what Rossi told you about me and about the case," insists Emily.

Catherine ignores Emily. "If Aaron has left the office, he will have gone home to an empty house. He will be utterly alone except for pictures of Haley and Jack. Derek and Penelope are having a sleep over because neither one wants to be alone tonight. Jen is probably home by now with Will and Henry, but she's still going to be looking over the other case files, trying to figure out where the team is going next. Spencer is at my University's library researching exorcisms. Why is he researching exorcisms Emily?"

Emily ignores Catherine's question. "You didn't say anything about Rossi."

Catherine take a deep breath, releases it, and then says nervously, "That is because he is parked around the corner, Dave drove me here."

"You got into a car? You got into a car with Rossi?" asks Emily astonished.

"I know," says Catherine, "I'm trying for progress."

Emily is still hung up about the car, "You got into a car and drove around for who knows how long without Reid? With Rossi?"

Catherine pauses before saying, "He is family, just like you are family."

Emily snorts.

Catherine looks away, "Okay fine, he's not family like you're family but I'm trying. I'm really trying hard to trust him Emmy."

Emily frowns before saying softly, "Creirwy (kree-ree)."

The nickname grabs Catherine's attention like Pooh to a honey pot and she turns her head towards Emily.

"I'm sorry for snapping," apologizes Emily

"And I'm sorry for punching you," Catherine says sincerely before sticking her tongue out at Emily and continuing, "because now my hand hurts."

Emily huffs and rolls her eyes. "Now, now Catherine, no more dancing, what did Rossi say?"

Catherine snickers, "Wow Em, pot, kettle much?"

"Whatever." Emily stands up to leave.

"Where are you going?" asks Catherine, worry colouring her voice.

Emily stares hard at Catherine, "I'm going to find Rossi, unless you tell me what he said right now."

"Okay, okay," says Catherine, holding up her hands in mock surrender, "You sure know how to motivate a girl don't you."

Impatiently, Emily taps her foot. "Well?"

Catherine looks up at Emily, "All he said was that the case had been particularly hard on you."

Emily raises one eyebrow, "That's it? Nothing else?"

Catherine breathes out, "He also said that you didn't go home and that you wanted to walk around for a bit."

"And what is wrong with that?" questions Emily defensively.

Catherine frowns, "Normally nothing would be wrong. But you're nine miles away from wherever you were with the team and you haven't moved in more than an hour Emily. It's past twelve now. So please Emmy, tell me what's wrong. I want to help."

Emily bites her lip to stay silent.

"Well?" prompts Catherine, echoing Emily's earlier phrasing.

Emily looks away from Catherine, "I found out that an old friend of mine died earlier this week."

Catherine winces, "I'm sorry Emmy."

"It's fine." Emily brushes it off.

"You're lying. If it was fine, if _you_ were fine, you wouldn't be out here. Did you call anyone Emily? Did you talk to anyone?"

"I asked Garcia to look into something and I spoke with Hotch," says Emily evasively.

"That's not the kind of talking I meant," mutters Catherine.

Emily continues on as if she hasn't heard Catherine, "We worked the case… " Emily trails off.

Catherine speaks up in the silence, "Have you slept at all?"

Emily refuses to look at Catherine.

Catherine takes her silence as a no. "Emmy, why didn't you call me? I would have come over," reproaches Catherine.

"That is exactly why I didn't call you," states Emily in a very matter of fact way.

"Huh?" Catherine wrinkles her nose.

Emily pouts, "You would have made me sleep."

Catherine gives Emily an incredulous look, "I can't _make_ you sleep Emily."

"No, but you would make me tired, like you're making me tired right now," protests Emily.

Catherine raises an eyebrow, "I'm not sure if I should be offended or not."

Emily smiles "Don't be. In most cases, it would be a good thing."

"But not this time?" prompts Catherine.

"No, this time sleeping would be a bad idea," whispers Emily.

Catherine frowns, "Who did you lose Emily?"

"Why do you think I lost someone?" hedges Emily.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Stupid question Emily. Even if you hadn't have just told me you lost an old friend. No one else from the team was hit this badly, and Mr. Rossi, I mean Dave said that you shouldn't be alone. That usually implies a personal connection. Who was this old friend?"

Emily wraps one arm around herself.

"Talk to me Emmy, please?" beseeches Catherine.

Emily bites the nails on her free hand, "His name is- was, Matthew. He was my best friend when I lived in Italy. We were fifteen- I haven't seen him in years but I miss him so much now that he's gone Catherine."

Catherine stands up and moves towards Emily, "I know Emmy."

"How could you possibly know?" Emily says bitterly.

"Beth." That single whispered word, filled with pain and longing fills Emily with more of an understanding than any lengthy explanation ever could.

Emily wraps one arm around Catherine. "Does it get better? Losing your best friend I mean."

"It does, but it takes a long time Emmy. It's been 11 years and sometimes I wake up from a dream and think, I have to tell Beth about the purple pool or the talking penguin. Then I remember that she died when we were seven and it hurts all over again. Some days I don't think about her at all and-"

Emily finishes Catherine's sentence, "And then you feel guilty."

Catherine nods.

"You shouldn't feel guilty you know," says Emily sagely.

"Neither should you," says Catherine with a strong voice. "You hadn't seen Matthew in years. There was no way you could have known he was in danger. That he was going to die."

"I should have known something was wrong," proclaims Emily.

Catherine rolls her eyes at Emily's stubborn insistence, "Emily, saying something like that is like saying Jen should have known I was going to be kidnapped."

Emily snaps, "That's irrational and not the same at all."

Catherine rolls her eyes again, "My point was that you thinking you should have known something was going to happen to Matthew is irrational."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less," whispers Emily.

Catherine whispers back, "I know but you can't blame yourself. Worrying like this is going to give you an ulcer."

Catherine and Emily sit down on the snow-covered steps. Catherine scoots closer to Emily and rests her head on Emily's shoulder for a second before recoiling in horror, "Fuck Emmy, your coat is soaked through. Aren't you freezing?"

"No," says a shivering Emily.

Catherine scoffs before standing up, "Yeah right, you're shivering just as much as I am."

"I am not." Whines Emily petulantly.

Catherine pulls Emily up off the steps, "Come on Emmy, let's get you home."

Emily makes a small noise of protest.

"No arguments Emmy." Catherine maintains position, "If we catch pneumonia Jen will kill us and then the rest of the team will resurrect us before killing us again."

Emily chuckles, "Have you been reading Harry Potter fanfiction again Catherine?"

Catherine's "Maybe" is drawn out and a sheepish smile covers her face.

Emily and Catherine start walking down the snow-covered street towards the corner around which one David Rossi has been hiding in silence. Emily's arm is draped over Catherine's shoulders while Catherine's arm is wrapped around Emily's waist, both providing and receiving comfort.

"Do we have to see Rossi?" asks Emily in a small voice, breaking the tranquility.

"No, we don't have to, but it would get us home faster." Catherine looks around, "I don't even know if there is a subway station around here."

Emily raises an eyebrow, "Us home, Catherine?"

"Of course," says Catherine sagaciously, "you're not getting rid of me that easily."

Emily frowns, "What about JJ? Won't she be worried?"

Catherine smiles, "I texted her a while back, saying that I was staying at your place."

Emily scoffs, "Isn't that a bit presumptuous?"

Catherine smirks, "Emily, you're the one who gave me a key to your condo, not to mention a permanent bedroom. You also said, and I quote: 'Come over at any time, day or night.'"

"That is true," says Emily in defeat.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Besides, you don't honestly think I would go home at one in the morning and risk waking up Henry do you? Jen would shoot me before asking any questions."

A few seconds later, the two women arrive at David Rossi's black bureau issued SUV. Catherine and Emily can see Rossi leaning back in the front seat of the SUV with his eyes closed.

Emily hesitates, "What if he's asleep?"

"Really Emmy? That's all you've got? No, I don't want to piss my boss off by making him sleep in his car all night?" Taunts Catherine.

Emily snickers. "Fine. You win. We'll get in the SUV and Rossi will drive us to my condo."

"I always win Emily." Catherine snickers, "You should remember that."

They bicker lightheartedly for a few seconds.

"Spoiled brat."

"Old lady."

"Princess."

"Jen certainly thinks I am, I'm so glad you agree Emily," says Catherine, sticking her tongue out.

Emily rolls her eyes at Catherine's antics. "Do you want the front seat or the back?" she asks gesturing to Rossi's sleeping form.

"Back," says Catherine without hesitation.

"Alright, I guess that leaves me with the front," says Emily with a grimace.

"No it doesn't, you can sit in back with me," urges Catherine.

"No I can't," insists Emily.

"Yes you can, and you will," commands Catherine; "I was in that car with Mr. Rossi for forty-five minutes. You owe me."

Emily looks incredulously at Catherine "What happened to helping out a friend?"

"Oh, no. You don't get to play that card," says Catherine emphatically, "I would have come to help you anyway. But it was Mr. Rossi-"

"Dave" teases Emily.

"Dave," says Catherine while rolling her eyes, "Who insisted on coming to get me." Catherine shudders, "I had to sit up front with him for a really long time and he was too close." Catherine's breathing has a panicked edge to it.

"Creirwy (kree-ree), you managed to make it all the way here without a panic attack?" asks Emily cautiously.

Catherine nods once.

Emily smiles broadly, "That's really good. I'm proud of you."

Catherine gives Emily a weak smile.

Emily lift's Catherine's chin so they can face each other, "Catherine, you know that he won't hurt you right?"

Catherine nods again.

Emily smiles sadly, "Knowing doesn't change much does it?"

Catherine shakes her head.

"Baby steps Creirwy (kree-ree)," whispers Emily.

"Baby steps Emmy," echoes Catherine.

"Okay, back of the car it is," says Emily, changing the subject, "Now who is going to wake Rossi?"

"Not me," says Catherine. "You should do it, he's your boss."

"Chicken," taunts Emily.

Catherine is resolute, "I don't care; I'm not waking him up. What if he pulls his gun?"

Emily goads Catherine, "Oh so you want me to get shot then?"

"No! I don't want you to get shot Emily. I just don't want to wake him up. I'm sorry." Catherine ducks her head.

Emily says, "C-" Right before David Rossi rolling down the passenger side window cuts her off with, "Are you two getting in or not?"

"Yes sir." Says Emily and opens the rear passenger door. "Get in Creirwy (kree-ree) before he decides to leave us stranded here in the snow."

Catherine's eyes are huge when she looks at Dave, "You wouldn't really do that would you?"

Rossi smiles, "Not to you kiddo."

The SUV is warm and Catherine smiles at him shyly while climbing into the SUV. She sits down directly behind Rossi.

Emily climbs in beside her before taking Catherine's small hand in her own.

"Ready ladies?" asks Rossi, while pulling away from the curb.

"Do you need directions?" asks Emily, trying to maintain her walls while Catherine is crushing her hand.

"No. Catherine already programmed the address into my GPS."

"Creirwy (kree-ree)?" questions Emily. There is a note of surprise in her voice.

"Need to go home now Emmy." Whispers Catherine, tightening her grip on Emily's hand even further as Rossi pulls onto the highway.

The ride back to Emily's apartment is short, for which Emily's hand is eternally grateful. Emily and Catherine both thank Rossi quietly once they arrive at the condo building. Rossi says good night to Catherine, and tells Emily quietly to take Monday off if she needs it before driving away.

* * *

Many people need desperately to receive this message:

'I feel and think much as you do,

care about many of the things you care about,

although most people do not care about them.

You are not alone.'

- Kurt Vonnegut

* * *

AN3: I have an out-take scene that didn't end up fitting in. If you would like to read it, please let me know.


	2. Survivors

AN: Emily and Catherine take turns talking about their pasts, first up is Emily. What do you think of Emily's explanation?

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

* * *

A friend is someone who

knows all about you

and still loves you.

- Elbert Hubbard

* * *

Catherine and Emily are lying almost perpendicular on Emily's bed. Emily is lying in bed properly, her head on the pillow and her feet at the end of the bed. While Catherine is curled up in the middle of the bed, head resting on Emily's stomach, Emily is running her fingers through Catherine's long blonde hair.

"Tell me about him?" whispers Catherine, breaking the silence.

"About who?" asks Emily sleepily.

Trepidation fills Catherine's voice, "Your friend Matthew."

"He was sweet and kind and loving and-" Emily starts crying. "He was there when I needed him most."

Catherine uncurls and moves closer to Emily so that she can hug her properly.

"This is really difficult Catherine," says Emily softly.

Catherine whispers, "You don't have to tell me about him if you don't want too but it might make you feel better."

"Do you really think so?" asks Emily faintly.

"Yes." Catherine nods, "Or you could write him letters, I used to write letters to Beth."

"What happened to her?" asks Emily, trying to distract Catherine.

"You first," insists Catherine

"I met Matthew in Rome. I was fifteen. We had one other friend, Johnny. He goes by John now." Emily stops talking.

Catherine notices Emily's slightly strange wording and says perceptively, "Have you seen John recently then?"

Emily shivers. "Yes, I saw him a few days ago. He is the one who told me that Matthew was dead. He called me out to a pub in the middle of the night, said he didn't want to tell me over the phone."

Catherine tightens her arms around Emily, "I'm glad you had a friend to tell you instead of reading about it in the paper."

"Me too Creirwy (kree-ree), it doesn't make it hurt less that Matthew is dead but reading about it in the paper would have been horrible." Emily hugs Catherine back.

Emily takes a deep breath and starts her story, "I moved around a lot when I was a kid, for the Ambassador's job. Right after I turned fifteen, we moved to Italy. Specifically Rome. I went to a boarding school."

Catherine smiles innocently, "That doesn't sound so bad Emily; it must be like a small community. Like a family right?"

Emily sighs, "Catherine, it doesn't work that that with kids. It's all about fitting in."

Catherine ducks her head, "I don't know anything about fitting in Emily. I have never fit in and I never really tried. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'll explain." Emily sighs, "Being the new girl makes you a target. The cool kids want to see if you can be popular and the rest won't have anything to do with you until the 'it' girls decide what you are. If you don't fit in, you are made fun of, bullied, ridiculed."

Catherine frowns, "Like Spencer?"

"Yes, similar to how Reid was bullied, but you don't tie girls to flagpoles or soccer nets." Emily frowns, "You need to remember just how much I wanted to fit in and that I had no other friends."

Catherine agrees without further prompting, "Okay Emmy."

Emily grimaces, "In order to be accepted into the group of popular kids, I had to sleep with one of the boys. The queen bee picked Johnny. Now, Matthew and Johnny were popular but kind of on the fringe of the main group. We got along really well so I thought it would be okay."

Catherine cocks her head and looks at Emily, "But it wasn't?"

Emily gives Catherine a withering look.

Catherine rolls her eyes. "Okay, so you slept with the guy, what's the worst that can happen? You get an STD or you get pregnant."

Emily's reaction, a tiny little whimper is a dead giveaway to Catherine, "You got pregnant didn't you?"

"Yes," whispers Emily, looking away.

"And Johnny, he was-" Catherine starts to ask her question.

Emily cuts her off, shifting uncomfortably, "Yes."

"Did he know?" Catherine demands.

Emily winces, "Yes. He told me to take care of it. That I was on my own."

"Asshole," curses Catherine.

"Catherine!" chides Emily.

Catherine shrugs off the admonition, "What he was. He might still be for all I know."

Emily doesn't protest.

"Bloody fucking hell Em, what did you do? Do you have a kid running around somewhere?"

Emily looks really pale.

"Emmy?" When there is no response forthcoming, Catherine tries again, "Emmy, what's wrong?"

Emily deflects, "Nothing."

Catherine frowns, "Liar."

"Matthew," breathes out Emily, an entire painful sentence given in a single word.

Catherine prompts Emily, "What about Matthew?"

"He found a clinic," whispers Emily, looking away from Catherine.

"Oh Emmy." Catherine hugs Emily tightly.

Emily's voice quivers, "He held my hand. He saved my life Creirwy (kree-ree). He made me feel like I was worth the effort. That is something my parents never bothered to say, I was always their wild problem child."

Catherine chuckles, "Emmy, I can't imagine you as a wild child."

"I fell off the rails for a while after the-"Emily cuts herself off, "Do you hate me now?"

"No. I don't hate you." Catherine squeezes Emily's hand, "I could never hate you. You did what you had to do to survive. There can be no shame in that."

Emily runs her fingers through her hair as she says distractedly; "Matthew was my whole world for a few months Catherine."

"So why hadn't you seen him in a long time?" Catherine frowns, "Did you fall out of touch?"

"Something like that." Emily sighs, "Matthew was very religious and what I did really messed up Matthew. He started questioning everything he knew. His parents hated me. Eventually he started using drugs, really anything he could get his hands on. Matthew's parents blamed me for all of Matthew's problems, according to them, he didn't have any before he met me."

Catherine protests vehemently, "You didn't mess him up Emily. You didn't force him to take drugs. It was his choice. And his parents are idiots if they couldn't see that."

"He was my whole world," whispers Emily.

Catherine purses her lips, "You didn't have any other friends?"

"I was in with the popular crowd but I wasn't really friends with them." Emily sighs. "I had a pen pal, but there are very few things you can tell someone who is more than 4500 miles away. And then we moved to London England at sixteen and then Ireland, specifically Dublin, for a quite a few months shortly after I turned seventeen. That year I did school work by correspondence because my mother wouldn't let me out of the Embassy until we moved back to London. It was hellish."

"When did you come back home?" asks Catherine.

"We were only in London for a few weeks before coming back to the United States. I was almost eighteen." Emily smiles, "I came back for my last year of high school."

Catherine smiles, "Are you still in contact with your pen pal?"

"No, I haven't been for a long time." Emily looks sad, "Why?"

Catherine shrugs, "Just thought it would be cool if your friendship had survived for this long."

"I have something better, I have you," teases Emily.

"Emmy that's horribly and dreadfully clichéd!" says Catherine, rolling her eyes.

Emily raises an eyebrow while looking at Catherine, "So? It's true isn't it?"

Catherine protests, "Well yes but-"

Emily interrupts Catherine calmly, "But nothing, you're my little sister too. You have been for a while."

Catherine blushes, "Well damn, now I have six living older siblings, another dad and an extra family member. I'll never get away with anything," mutters Catherine, only half complaining.

"Ha, ha," says Emily. "I think you're a little too old to be trying to get away with much of anything. You're a good kid, Catherine. There is no need for you to try and get away with anything. Besides, I'm sure one of us will always give in to the Catherine Jareau charm." Emily snickers, "You never know, it might even be Hotch or Rossi. You just have to figure out which person to ask each of your questions."

* * *

"It's your turn Catherine," prompts Emily after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes Emmy…" Catherine trails off, sighs then starts again, "Beth and I were best friends; we lived next door to each other. Beth went to regular school, but my mama didn't want me to go, so I was home schooled. Beth and Jen were my only real connections to the outside world. And Jen left for university right before I would have started grade one."

Emily frowns, "That's sad Creirwy (kree-ree)."

"After I came home, I only had Jenny and she was away at school most of the time. She came home every weekend but it was difficult." Catherine starts breathing really quickly, "For months I was terrified of my daddy."

Emily gently picks up Catherine's tightly clenched hand, "Focus on me Catherine. Listen to the sound of my voice. I don't need to know anything you don't want me to know. Only tell me what you think I need to know."

Catherine's hand unclenches and she looks at Emily, "Not what you want to know Emmy?"

Emily looks directly into Catherine's eyes, "No, just what you think I need to know or what I should know."

Catherine looks puzzled, "You really didn't look it up two years ago Emily?"

Emily squeezes Catherine's tense hand, "No Catherine I didn't. I figured you would tell me when you were ready, if you wanted me to know."

Catherine smiles sadly at Emily. "Beth wasn't even supposed to be there that night. We had only decided to have a sleepover that afternoon." Catherine stops talking for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling. Emily doesn't say anything either. "Right before we were 'rescued'," Catherine starts again in a quiet voice, "I thought he was going to blow us all up and maybe in some ways, that would have been better."

"Don't talk like that!" says Emily sharply.

Catherine looks away, "It would have given a lot of families closure not to have to see their broken children."

Emily is firm, "They had closure Catherine and a few families got their children back."

Catherine shudders, "We weren't their children anymore Emily. He damaged all of us beyond repair. Our parents as well."

"Do you honestly believe that?" asks a stupefied Emily.

"Yes I do," states Catherine determinedly.

"Why?" asks Emily, flabbergasted.

Catherine ignores Emily's question and asks one of her own, "Did you know that Jen tried to get my parents to move to Pittsburg after I was returned?"

"No Catherine, I didn't know that," says Emily patiently.

"She wanted so desperately do protect me, to keep me close." Catherine swallows, "I sometimes wonder if she would have been better off without me. Her parents would still be alive."

"Creirwy (kree-ree)..." breathes out Emily.

Catherine ignores Emily, "She gave up so much of herself, and sometimes I wonder if she ever resented me for it. I ruined her life Emmy. Did you know that I could have played soccer? I was good enough to make the team but I chose hockey instead."

Emily's brow is furrowed, "Why did you do that?"

"Because soccer was Jen's sport," mumbles Catherine. "I have taken so much from her; I couldn't take her favourite sport, her escape, as well."

Emily is adamant, "Catherine you did not ruin JJ's life and you playing soccer would not have stolen anything away from her. I know that JJ loves you. Your sister could have easily had you live with your aunt. There is no way that JJ would not have fought so hard to retain custody of you if she did not want you in her life."

Catherine frowns in contemplation of Emily's words. "I know that she loves me and I love her Emmy."

"So what's the problem? Why do you think she might resent you in the darkest corners of her mind?" asks a confused Emily.

Catherine grimaces and takes her hand back, "Sometimes I feel like I am three different people Emily. First I am every little bit of Jessie that Jen could hold onto and impart unto me."

Emily sighs, "Catherine I'm sure that isn't true."

"It is true. I know it and you know it." Catherine frowns, "and please don't interrupt me Emmy. Before I was born, Jenny was afraid that her parents were trying to replace Jessie, but I didn't replace Jessie, I replaced Jen."

"What are you talking about?" asks a bewildered Emily.

Catherine rolls her eyes and says with a slight smile, "I'm the little sister, the 'faerie princess' who needs to be protected."

Something clicks in Emily's mind. "Catherine," Emily's use of Catherine's name instead of a nickname denotes the seriousness of what is to come, "Was JJ's older sister-" Emily cuts herself off and amends her earlier statement, "Was your eldest sister's name Jessica?"

"Yes," Catherine huffs, "Where have you been Emmy? I've said her name at least a dozen times."

"Not tonight you haven't and you have always called her Jessie," protests Emily weakly.

"What difference does it make? Why does it matter?" asks a baffled Catherine.

Emily swallows audibly, "Was she by any chance born on August 1st 1973?"

Catherine narrows her eyes, "Yes. How did you know?"

"Well, I feel really stupid," says a sheepish Emily.

Frowning Catherine says, "Yeah and I'm really confused so explain."

Emily bites her lower lip, "Remember that pen pal I talked about earlier?"

Catherine raises an eyebrow, "The one who you had while you were in Italy and who lived 4000+ miles away?"

Emily nods, "Yes that one. I think she might have been your Jessie."

Catherine purses her lips, "That is really eerie. How did you come to this conclusion Emily?"

Emily tries to placate Catherine, "Finish your explanation Creirwy (kree-ree) and then I'll answer all your questions."

Catherine's eyes sparkle, "Really? All of them? Every single question Emily?"

Emily rolls her eyes, "Not every single question you have Catherine, just the ones relevant to Jessie."

Catherine pouts, "You're no fun."

"Your story first Catherine, then mine." Emily reminds her gently but firmly.

"Fine." Catherine starts to explain quietly, "I am Jessie and Jen mixed together and this sucks because I am also me. I don't know who she is. I'm scared of people, terrified really."

Emily interrupts, "It doesn't show."

"Don't lie and what did I say about interrupting?" She smiles sadly, "I have been terrified of people since I was seven Emily. It's a long time to be afraid."

"Are you tired?" the question is asked hesitantly.

"I am so very tired," sighs Catherine.

Emily frowns, "You're not planning on dying anytime soon are you?"

"No, where did you get that idea?" asks a bemused Catherine.

"Dunno," mutters Emily, looking away.

Catherine frowns, "Don't lie Emily. My words must have triggered something for you or you wouldn't have reacted the way you did."

Emily raises an eyebrow, "Is your story finished?"

"Not really…" Catherine trails off.

"Then we'll come back to it," says Emily in a firm, no-nonsense voice.

Catherine wrinkles her nose. "Do you still need to know why?"

"Which why Creirwy (kree-ree)?" asks a smiling Emily.

Catherine bites her lip nervously, "The one about why we would have been better if the monster had killed us."

"Yes, I would like to know why," whispers Emily.

"You would like to, but do you need to?" hedges Catherine.

"That is up to you Catherine," says Emily patiently, "You need to decide what you can tell me."

Catherine shudders, "He slit Beth's throat in front of me Emmy."

"What!" exclaims Emily.

Catherine is trembling violently while she continues talking, "The monster slit Beth's throat while standing in front of me. I was covered in her blood. And I was going to be next because I was the closest, so I ran away and hid. He grabbed Sarah instead."

Emily offers her hand to Catherine who takes it, "Her death is not your fault Catherine. You did what you had to do to ensure your own survival."

Catherine shivers, "Beth and I promised each other that we would escape together. Then she was gone and I was too scared to take her still, warm, body with me. I see her almost every night when I fall asleep."

"Your nightmares?" asks Emily, squeezing Catherine's hand comfortingly.

Catherine nods and curls into Emily's side.

Emily runs her fingers through Catherine's hair, "You were a child Creirwy (kree-ree), just seven years old. You are not responsible. He is the monster, not you."

Catherine refuses to look at Emily.

"Now," says Emily into the silence, "Please tell me why Beth dying means that you would be better off dead."

Catherine's voice is haunted, "Because she wasn't supposed to be there Emily. If we had just waited one more night, waited for Jen to come home… I would have been the only one who was taken. Beth was dead weight. He only took her because she threatened to scream and wake my parents. She was so brave Emily and I was too scared to move. The monster covered Beth's face with a white cloth and she stopped kicking. I thought she was dead and started crying. He slapped me so hard my head hit the wall. I remember the rainstorm from that night. I remember leaving my pink raincoat on my bed. I was soaked to the bone and shaking both from the cold and terror by the time he carried Beth to the van. I didn't even try to fight him off Emily. I just followed along because he said he would kill Beth if I made a single sound."

"Creirwy (kree-ree)," Emily breathes out, "I'm so sorry."

Catherine ignores Emily's words, "I am the only one still alive today Emily."

Emily frowns, "There were three kids who were rescued Catherine, you and two others. I thought you were still in contact."

Catherine's answer of "They are both dead Emmy," is muffled by Catherine's face being pressed into Emily's shoulder.

"What? When?" asks Emily, startled.

"Harry killed himself two years after we were," sarcasm drips from Catherine's next three words, "So kindly rescued."

"How old was he?" Emily asks with trepidation.

"Thirteen. The other Catherine died last year. She was eighteen. They couldn't hack it, what makes me any different?" asks an anguished Catherine.

"You had JJ and now you have all of us. We won't let you drown." Emily says emphatically.

Catherine lifts her head and raises an eyebrow, "Interesting choice of words Emmy. Care to explain?"

"Not right now Creirwy (kree-ree)," sighs Emily.

"Fine," pouts Catherine, annoyed.

Emily frowns, "Explain the bit about the parents please Catherine. I don't understand. Wouldn't it have been better to have your child alive rather than dead?"

Catherine turns away from Emily when she starts speaking, "When I came home and Beth didn't, her family fell apart. They moved away. A family with a teenage boy moved into their house. I hated that boy."

"Why?" Emily hesitates before asking, "Did he do anything to you?"

Catherine scoffs at Emily's question, "No, nothing like that. His new bedroom was Beth's old room."

"Oh," breathes out Emily.

"Yeah…" Catherine trails off into silence before turning back to Emily, "If we had all died, they would have been able to move on with their lives. As it was, three families were ruined beyond repair by the return of their children. Harry's parents split up and he spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals. They lost their child three times. How can that not be worse than losing him twice?"

Emily cocks her head, "Three times Catherine?"

Catherine counts them off on her fingers, "Once when he went missing, twice when they got him back and the third and final time is when he killed himself."

Emily grimaces.

Catherine sits up and looks away from Emily, "Something similar happened to the other Catherine, her parents were already divorced but her stepmom and dad disappeared out of her life. They couldn't cope, so they left. Her stepdad might have been the nicest guy in the world before Cathy was taken but he couldn't cope with terrifying the little girl he saw as his anymore and so he left. Cathy's mom blamed her for everything that went wrong."

"Cathy lost everything, you still had your parents, you had JJ," insists Emily.

Catherine corrects Emily, "I had Jen. My parents were barely more than shells after Jessie died and then after I went missing, they broke. I have a handful of good memories with my parents aware and engaged after I was returned. One of them was the day they died. What exactly does that say about me Emily?"

Emily rolls Catherine over to face her, "It tells me that you are a survivor."

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Yeah right."

"Creirwy (kree-ree) I am serious. You could have given up but you didn't. You must have had a reason. What was it? What was so important that you lived through hell just to come back?" says Emily firmly, not a single hint of ridicule in her voice.

"Nothing," says Catherine evasively.

Emily raises an eyebrow, "Now who is lying?"

"Piss off Emmy," bites out Catherine.

Emily snickers, "Hey now, there is no need to get nasty. I was trying to keep you honest."

"Just like I try and keep you honest? Look how well that's working." Catherine raises an eyebrow before demanding a reprieve, "Stop pushing Emily."

"Catherine," breathes out Emily.

Catherine pulls away from Emily, "No Emily. I'm done talking about this."

"For now," says Emily calmly.

"For tonight," agrees Catherine. "I really need to stop now Emmy."

* * *

We are what we pretend to be,

so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.

- Kurt Vonnegut

* * *

AN2: I have an out-take scene that didn't end up fitting in. If you would like to read it, please let me know.

AN3: Next chapter will be posted Thursday June 7th, 2012


	3. You Promised Me A Story

AN: This is the real chapter 3. Thank you to Sara for point out my mistake.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

* * *

Friendship is born at that moment

when one person says to another:

"What! You too? I thought I was the only one."

- C.S. Lewis

* * *

"You promised me a story Emmy," says Catherine, pouting.

Emily rolls her eyes, "I didn't promise but I will tell you a story Catherine. I had a pen pal when I was a teenager. It started out as a school assignment. I was given a little girl by the name of Jessica, Jessie; she had a little sister named Jennifer, Jenny."

"My Jen?" asks Catherine with a soft smile,

"Yes Catherine, your Jen, our JJ." Emily's smile mirrors Catherine's.

"I didn't know you knew Jen," says Catherine, wide-eyed.

Emily's lips twitch, "I didn't know JJ, Creirwy (kree-ree). I only knew Jess."

"Did you ever meet her?" asks a hopeful Catherine.

Emily's eyes look sad, "Once."

Catherine doesn't notice. She smiles happily at Emily, "What was she like?"

Emily bites her bottom lip, "She was sad Creirwy (kree-ree)."

"Oh." Catherine pauses before asking, "When did you meet her?"

Emily sighs, "About a month before she killed herself."

Catherine's shoulders sag and she breathes out a sad "oh." She bites her lip, "Can you tell me anything about her? I would like…"

Emily raises an eyebrow, "Do you mean that you want someone else's opinion of her Creirwy (kree-ree)?"

"Well yes, all my information has come from Jen and well…" Catherine trails off.

"It's okay Creirwy (kree-ree), I understand." Emily continues quietly, "I was rather rude in my first letter to Jessica. I wasn't impressed with the idea of writing to a twelve-year-old girl in the US. I wanted to pass English so I decided that I would write just as many letters as necessary, not get attached and then never talk to that child again. I prayed that I would get someone who was passably interesting so that writing the letters wouldn't be torturous. It didn't work out like that."

"You became attached." Catherine says with certainty, it is not a question.

"Yes," concedes Emily, "I became attached, and so did Jessie. We continued to write to each other and we became friends even though we didn't share anything important for quite a few years. Jessie was the first person I ever told about my abortion…" Emily trails off.

Catherine looks confused, "Why did you tell her? Why was she the first person?"

Emily starts to explain, "Because Jessie was important-"

Catherine cuts Emily off, suspicion colouring her voice, "How important?"

Emily chuckles, "Jealous Creirwy (kree-ree)?"

Catherine wrinkles her nose. "No."

"Liar," says Emily teasingly.

Catherine rolls her eyes.

"It's okay you know," reassures Emily.

"What exactly is okay?" asks Catherine defensively.

Emily smiles, "To want to know just how important someone else is to me."

"Emmy-" starts Catherine.

Emily cutes her off, "In all seriousness Catherine, at the time Jessie was very important. At the time, everything in my life was fluid; nothing was consistent in my life. My mother was always moving us around for work and Jessie's letters were a constant in my life for three and a half years."

"What about now?" asks Catherine, biting her lip.

Emily sighs, "I haven't really sat down and thought about Jessie in a long time, not until you mentioned losing your eldest sister to suicide in October."

"Why didn't you say anything Emily?" asks Catherine in uncertainty.

"I wasn't sure it really was my Jessie you were talking about," says Emily picking at her nails.

Catherine frowns, "What changed? Why are you sure now?"

"It was what you said..." Emily trails off.  
Catherine rolls her eyes, "What did I say Emmy? I have said an awful lot of things tonight."

Emily rushes to answer in one breath, "You said that you were a 'faerie princess' who needs to be protected."

"Really?" Catherine wrinkles her nose in confusion, "Why is that important to you?"

Emily smiles sadly, "Jessie was always talking about a faerie princess from her dreams."

Catherine smiles in recognition, "Jenny said that Jessie used to dream about the faerie princess, about me, all the time."

"Every night and Jessie wasn't the only one who had dreams," whispers Emily.

Catherine heard what Emily whispered, "What are you talking about Emmy?"

"Nothing. I shouldn't have said that," says Emily quickly.

"Please tell me?" asks Catherine, clasping her hands together under her chin and looking pleadingly at Emily.

"Not now, some other time Creirwy (kree-ree)," says Emily dismissively.

"Why not now Emmy?" pushes Catherine.

"Because there are other things that you need to know and I can't tell you tonight," says Emily in a reasonable tone.

Catherine narrows her eyes, "What kind of things do you need to tell me Emily?"

"I can't tell you right now Catherine," hedges Emily.

"When can you tell me?" questions Catherine.

"Later," says Emily calmly.

Watching Emily's face closely through narrowed eyes, Catherine asks "How much later?"

"A lot later," says Emily looking back at Catherine.

"Emily!" says Catherine in exasperation.

Emily narrows her eyes at Catherine, "I don't have an exact number Catherine. You need clearance."

Catherine takes a deep breath, "Let me get this straight, I need clearance for you to tell me something important?"

Emily nods, "Yes."

"Okay," Catherine pauses, "Then do I also need clearance for you to talk to me about dreams that my sister or someone else, possibly you, had about me before I was born?"

"Not exactly," hedges Emily.

"Emily!" grounds out Catherine.

"Catherine, I can't tell you anything else. You need to accept that for now." Emily ties to placate Catherine.

"Fine," spits out Catherine in anger.

"Please don't be angry with me Creirwy (kree-ree). I'll be able to tell you someday," says Emily contritely.

"Someday isn't now Emily," says Catherine, brushing her off.

"No it isn't," agrees Emily, "but it's better than me not ever being able to tell you."

"I guess," says Catherine, sulking just a little bit.

Emily tries to make up for her earlier blunder, "Do you know what Jessie used to be called by your parents and her classmates?"

"No," says Catherine cautiously.

Emily smiles fondly in remembrance, "Creirwy (kree-ree), she was called JJ."

Catherine narrows her eyes at Emily, expecting this to be a joke, "I thought Jen was JJ."

"Jessie was JJ first," says Emily in her most convincing voice.

"Of course," breathes out Catherine, her eyes lighting up, "Jessica Joy."

Emily's smile is all the answer Catherine needs.

"If JJ was Jessie's nickname, why would Jenny want to be known by the same name? Wouldn't that be a little weird?" asks Catherine, wrinkling her nose.

Emily smiles at her kindly, "You know the answer to that Creirwy (kree-ree)."

"No I don't," says Catherine immediately, without reflection.

Emily rolls her eyes, "Catherine, think for a minute. If you lost JJ, how much would you want to hold onto her?"

Catherine frowns, "A whole hell of a lot."

Emily squeezes Catherine's hand, "Would you light a candle for her every night?"

Squeezing Emily's hand, Catherine replies immediately, "Of course."

Emily bites her tongue, "Would you talk about her all the time for years after her death?"

Catherine frowns, "Probably."

Emily smiles at Catherine, "Would you tell your little sister, if you had one, about your big sister?"

Catherine smiles back, "Most definitely."

Emily bites her lip, "Now, if you had the same initials, would you take her nickname as your own to keep a little piece of her alive?"

"Yes," says Catherine a little sadly.

"Would you-" starts Emily.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Okay Emmy, I get it."

"Good," says Emily with a smile.

"I have another question Emmy," says Catherine quietly.

Emily answers just as softly, "Yes Creirwy (kree-ree)?"

Catherine bites her lip, "How was Jessie when you knew her? You said that she was sad but Jenny doesn't remember her like that."

"She probably wouldn't Creirwy (kree-ree)…" Emily winces and trails off.

"I don't understand," says Catherine shaking her head, "Why?"

"Creirwy (kree-ree)," says Emily grimacing, "Jennifer was eleven when Jessica died. How much of an idealized version of your sister did you have when you were ten or eleven? How high was the pedestal you put her on?"

Catherine rolls her eyes, "I can acknowledge your point but Jen has been my entire world for a very long time. She raised me. She was and is my hero."

Emily's lips twitch, "Have you considered that Jessie was probably JJ's whole world too?"

"Okay," breathes out Catherine, "but why wouldn't she remember how sad Jessie was?"

"Maybe she doesn't want to remember or maybe JJ was just a little girl who didn't know anything about mental illness." Emily bites her tongue.

"Mental illness?" asks a confused Catherine.

"Nothing Catherine," says Emily, picking at her nails, "forget I said anything."

"No, I will not forget. Emily, what aren't you telling me? Was Jessie mentally ill? Did Jenny know? Does Jenny know?"

"Catherine slow down. One question at a time," admonishes Emily.

Catherine is starting to sound a little panicked, "You said that you would answer all my questions as they pertain to Jessie. These do. Answer me. Please Emmy?"

"I will answer everything that I can Creirwy (kree-ree). Just slow down a little okay?" says Emily, trying to calm Catherine down.

"Fine," says Catherine breathing in and out slowly a few times in an attempt to calm down. "Was Jessie mentally ill?"

Emily swallows and doesn't answer for such a long time that Catherine whispers into the silence, "She was, wasn't she?"

Emily cannot look at Catherine when she answers, "Yes."

Catherine frowns at the side of Emily's head, "Do you know what she had?"

Still looking at the ceiling Emily says, "I only know of two possible things Creirwy (kree-ree)."

Catherine is getting impatient again, "Well, what were they?"

Emily bites her tongue and says dispassionately, "Jessica was being treated for multiple personality disorder as well as dissociative amnesia."

"MPD, really?" Catherine asks, looking a little confused.

Emily's swallow is audible, "It is one of the things that she was being treated for."

"She was on medication?" asks Catherine, desperate for clarification.

"She was." Answers Emily quietly.

Catherine's eyebrows furrow, "For how long? When did-"

Emily cuts her off, "One at a time Catherine. She was hospitalized in October of 1988."

Catherine does a quick mental calculation, "So she was on medication for nine months. Do you know what kind of medication?"

Emily shakes her head minutely, "No I don't. I never asked."

Catherine cringes, "Did Jenny know?"

Emily frowns, "I don't think so Creirwy (kree-ree). From what I remember, Jennifer wasn't allowed to visit Jessie in the hospital."

Catherine looks nervous, "Does Jenny know about Jessie now?"

Emily purses her lips, "I don't see how she could."

"You didn't tell her?" Catherine asks confusion colouring her voice.

Emily rolls her eyes, "Give me a break, I only put it together a little while ago."

"Will you tell her?" asks Catherine

"I don't know," replies Emily honestly.

"You told me," says Catherine, simply stating a fact.

Emily nods, "Yes I did."

"Do you regret it?" asks Catherine watching Emily's face.

"Not exactly," hedges Emily.

"Stop it with the non-answers Emily," says Catherine in frustration, "I would really appreciate a real answer."

Emily tilts her head as she considers the question, "I don't regret knowing that you are related to Jessie. I don't regret telling you about her. What I do regret is that Jessie's death destroyed your family. I regret that Jennifer had to raise you. I regret that I didn't even try to get in touch with her after Jessie died. I don't know what I could have done, or if I could have done anything, but maybe you would have grown up with me around. I would have found something that I could do. No child should ever have to raise another child."

For almost an hour Emily and Catherine lie on Emily's bed holding hands, comforting each other in complete silence.

Emily bites her lip before breaking the tranquility, "Catherine?"

"Yes Emmy?" asks Catherine, rolling her head towards the other woman.  
She starts cautiously, "Do you blame Jessie for destroying your parents? For you not having a normal childhood?"

Catherine rolls her eyes, "I don't. How could I? She-"

Emily cuts her off, "It would be really easy for you to blame her Creirwy (kree-ree). She isn't here."

"Emily, she couldn't take it anymore, I know what that feels like. You probably know what that feels like. She didn't want to survive. No, I don't blame her. I have no idea what my life would have been like if Jessie had lived. I don't even know if I would have been born."

It is quiet for a few moments before Emily whispers sleepily, "It would be understandable if you did but I'm glad that you don't blame her," right before she falls asleep.

Catherine stays up for a while, just watching Emily sleep. Emily doesn't look peaceful, her forehead is wrinkled and her hands are clenched in fists. Catherine tries to sooth Emily while she sleeps, she runs her fingers through Emily's hair and tries to gently pry Emily's hands open without waking her up. It doesn't work and Catherine looks more and more worried as her efforts to calm Emily fail miserably.

It only takes a few more minutes before there are tears streaming down Emily's face. Catherine is still calling her name; trying desperately to wake Emily because nightmares only get worse the longer they go on with no end in sight.

"Matthew!" Emily screams, jolting upwards in bed before falling back down and curling up into a tiny trembling ball facing Catherine.

* * *

Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant

filled with odd little waiters who bring you things

you never asked for and don't always like.

- Lemony Snicket

* * *

AN2: I have an out-take scene that didn't end up fitting in. If you would like to read it, please let me know.


	4. Jessica Joy Jareau

WARNING: point of view change, from third person to first person. This chapter will be told from Catherine's point of view.

AN: You should go back and check out chapter 3 if you read it after Saturday. When I updated chapter 4, I accidentally updated chapter 3 instead.

AN2: Letters are in _italics_ and separated from the rest of the story by a line.

AN3: Jessie's dreams are not prophetic. She is not a seer. Jessie is just a perceptive fifteen-year-old girl who desperately wants what she dreams about to come true, to be real.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

* * *

To the living we owe respect,

but to the dead,

we owe only the truth.

- Voltaire

* * *

I cannot see Emily's face but I know that she is crying. I can hear the sobs just as easily as I can see her shaking form in the dim light coming from the nightlight in the bathroom. I wrap my arms around Emily; I hope this makes her feel better, or at least calmer. I don't expect a response from Emily but I get one. Emily uncurls from her fetal position and wraps her arms around me, burrowing her tearstained face in my hair, sobs wracking her body.

I don't offer to talk about Emily's dream with her because I know that Emily will turn me down. She has already shared a lot about Matthew tonight and just as I am unwilling to talk about what happened to me, I know that right now, she isn't willing to share anymore either. I just hold on tightly and wait out her sobbing.

Once Emily calms down a little bit, I run through a bunch of ideas for distractions. Jen always has distractions ready for me when I wake up from a nightmare. I feel like a horrible sister for not remembering sooner. My mind gets stuck on one thing; though I am loathe to ask my question because I'm not sure that it will make Emily feel better. In fact, I'm pretty sure it will bring back sad memories, but my mind is stuck. I take a deep breath, pull slightly away from Emily so that I can look at her face and ask my question: "Emmy, do you still have any of the letters Jessie wrote to you?"

She hiccups and looks down at me, "Yes I do. Why?"

I bite my lip nervously, "Would you mind letting me read some of them?"

Emily hesitates, "I don't know Catherine."

I am so desperate for another opinion that I actually beg, "Just one? Please Emmy! Please?"

She frowns at me, "This obsession isn't healthy."

I roll my eyes, "Please Emily, I have been raised on stories of Jessie and Jenny doesn't have letters from her."

"She should-" Emily cuts herself off.

"She should what Emmy?" I ask, my curiously has been piqued.

Emily looks exceedingly nervous, "JJ should have at least one letter from Jessie."

I wrinkle my nose in confusion, "What? Why would she have-" It clicks, "Oh, you mean Jessie left a letter for Jen. How do you know that she would do that?"

Emily sighs, "I know that Jessie left a letter for JJ because Jessie wrote a letter to me."

My breath exits my lungs with a whooshing sound. "Jessie wrote you a goodbye letter Emmy?"

Emily looks up at the ceiling before answering. "Yes she did."

"I'm sorry," slips out before I can think to censure my thoughts.

"It's alright Catherine." Emily says. "You do have a right to know about Jessie and I am the only other person with information. So I am going to let you read one letter."

"Are you sure Emmy?" I ask, suddenly uncertain of my question and the possible answers it might bring to light.

"Yes," says Emily simply, as if there is nothing to sharing what must be a cherished memory if she's kept Jessie's letters for so long.

Emily untangles herself before rising from her bed and walking across the room to her huge cabinet. She bends down, opens the bottom cupboard and unlocks the safe. I probably shouldn't know the combination, but I do. Just like I shouldn't know the combo to Jen's safe or Derek's, Penelope's or Spencer's. From inside the safe Emily withdraws a small dark green box. She stands up slowly before walking back to the bed where I am waiting and fidgeting impatiently. Emily sits down on the edge of the bed, rather far away from me and I frown at her. She takes a few deep breaths, I wonder if this is more painful for her than I originally thought.

Emily opens the box and tilts it towards me so that I can see inside, it is completely filled with letters.

"You kept them all?" I ask in an awed whisper.

Emily snaps the lid shut, "I kept every single letter." Emily says, running her fingers over the lid in a repetitive motion.

I inch closer to Emily, wanting to see better in the dim light.

"There is one letter that I want you to read Creirwy (kree-ree)."

"Which one Emmy?" I ask instantly curious.

"The last one," whispers Emily.

I bite my lip when Emily doesn't move, "Oh Emmy, are you sure?"

"Yes I am sure Creirwy (kree-ree)." She turns on the table lamp before opening the box again. Emily withdraws the bottommost letter with care and hands it to me.

I take it with as much consideration as I can before settling back against the headboard. Emily sits down beside me but she doesn't look at me nor does she look at the letter cradled in my hands.

I gasp in recognition, at the adult like handwriting on the letter. Jessie wasn't more than fifteen years old and yet her handwriting is almost identical to Jen's. I wonder if Jen copied it so many times that it just became a part of her, like Jessie and me.

I open the envelope cautious of Emily's reaction because from what I can tell, she is not breathing. The handwritten letter I withdraw is on pale green paper and the ink is lavender. I take a deep breath before I start to read. I can already tell that reading this letter is going to be exhausting.

* * *

_July 23, 1989_

_Emily,_

_I am truly sorry that our one and only opportunity to meet did not go as well as we intended. Again, I am so sorry; I didn't mean to make you cry. I really am doing what I believe is best for me. I cannot continue to live like this. My medication drags me down even more than any voice I might possibly have heard in my head. I am glad that I got to meet you. Your friendship over the past two and a half years has meant so much to me. I am glad that I had a chance to write to you, know you and meet you in person._

Don't worry about what happened in Italy; I am quite sure that Matthew will figure everything out. You haven't heard from him in a while, maybe he got better in time for graduation. If he was held back because of how much school he missed, he will have lots of time to be better by the time he graduates next year.

_Don't hate yourself for what you did, Emily, you survived and now you have a chance to live, so live. Go to University, graduate, get a job, save lives, have a family, save more lives. You are going to be even more amazing than you already are. What you are going to achieve is so much more that what I could ever hope to accomplish. I am drowning Emily. I am barely surviving as it is and only knowing that I have chosen a failsafe date, which is quickly approaching, gets me through the day._

_I had a dream a while back that one day you would meet my little sister Jenny and that the two of you will be great friends. I am so happy for both of you, but what makes me even happier is the other dream that I had: You, my dear Emily, are going to meet my faerie princess. I know you know about whom I am speaking. You will know her when you meet her Emily, just like Jenny will know her when she first holds her. Jenny will look so very familiar to you and when you meet the princess, you will understand everything that I have told you. She is so very important Emily. She will be there when you need her most but you won't be there when she falls apart. Being away from your family, unable to help will eat at you but your return will help everyone. You always come back Emily. You are a survivor._

_Your daughter will be gorgeous Emily, a true sea goddess. She will look just like you, nothing of her father in her, I promise. She is going to love you so much Emily, for a long time, you will be her whole world._

_I want you to know that I am leaving a letter for Jenny. It is rather pitiful, but I don't know how to explain myself to Jenny in a way that won't irreparably damage her. She needs to be strong. Eventually she will be strong, I am sure of it, a white phantom warrior. She will protect the faerie princess just like she promised._

_I am going to trust you with something important Emily: please keep the enclosed letter for the faerie princess. You can read it if you want to, but know that I would prefer that she read it first. So you might have to wait a rather long while._

_Don't forget to always keep your promises. Never make one that you are not one hundred percent certain you can keep._

_I also want to thank you for trying to save me. It was really very sweet of you, but some of us are just not meant to survive._

_Thank you for being my friend._

_All my love,_

_Jessica Joy, JJ, Jessie_

* * *

After I finish the letter, I notice that Emily has started breathing again. We are silent for a few minutes, I am digesting everything that I've read and Emily is chewing her nails while looking everywhere but at me. She stops biting her nails long enough to blurt out, "You're not going to ask me why I didn't save your sister?"

When I don't break down in tears or start screaming, Emily appears to relax a little bit.

It takes me a moment to process Emily's rushed question. I frown at her, "Emily, if she wanted to die that badly, there was no way you could have saved her."

Emily smiles humorlessly, "Yes, she was rather determined."

I bite my lip nervously, "Emily, do you know how long she waited?"

"What do you mean?" Emily asks confusion evident on her face.

I am almost calm when I try to explain, "Jessie's failsafe date was July 23rd 1989."

"Yes. What of it?" asks Emily in dubiety.

"How long before that had Jessie decided that she was going to kill herself?"

My name is long and drawn out warning, "Catherine."

I am not fazed by the use of my name and so I answer in kind, "Emily." When Emily doesn't say anything I try again. "Emily, you must know something."

Emily looks very pale when she answers, "One hundred and eighty one days."

I frown, puzzled, "That is a long time to wait. How long would you have waited?"

Emily snaps, "Catherine."

I slump down against the headboard, "I'm sorry Emmy."

She looks at me and raises one eyebrow.

"Really, really sorry." I do my best to look contrite. It is not much of a stretch. In fact, I am sorry for letting my mouth get ahead of my brain. Trying to get away from the topic of failsafe dates, I ask Emily the first question that pops into my head, "Emily do you have the letter for me that Jessie mentioned in her letter to you?"

Emily looks exhausted, "Yes I do Creirwy (kree-ree). Are you sure you want to read it tonight?"

"Yes Emmy, but only if you're up for it. You haven't read it have you?" I have to make sure.

Emily sighs, "No Creirwy (kree-ree), I haven't read your letter."

"Well, can I have it then?" Finally, something tangible about my eldest sister, something first hand. I want solid proof that she existed, that she knew about me, that she wanted me. I want to know why she decided to die.

Emily reaches back into the little green box and pops out the inside cover for the lid. Inside is an envelope which Emily hands to me as if touching it has burned her fingers. The first thing I notice about the envelope is that it is not pale green like Emily's but a dark midnight blue with a pair of intricate wings drawn in the bottom left-hand corner. I open the envelope carefully; the flap has not been sealed shut, just tucked in. I am struck by the realization of just how much Jessie must have trusted Emily. Not only did she leave Emily a letter for me, someone she could not have been sure Emily would ever meet, but she didn't seal said letter. She trusted Emily enough to respect her wishes.

The next thing that I notice about the letter is that the paper is a light blue and the writing is in silver. The third final thing that I notice about the letter before reading it is that unlike Emily's letter, mine has no date. This is a curious difference.

* * *

_My Faerie Princess,_

_I am writing this to you on what I expect will be your birthday next year. However I might be wrong since it is so very difficult to predict an accurate due date._

_I have been waiting such a long time, possibly my entire life to meet you, but I know that I shan't. I want you to know that I have wanted you to exist ever since I knew who you were. You are going to be amazing. I know you'll be even smarter than Jenny and me. You're going to be so important to Jenny, so please let her take care of you. She is the white phantom warrior and she knows just what to do._

_If you are actually receiving this letter then you have met Emily. I am so happy for both of you. If things had gone, as they should have, I might have been attacked and I would not have been sick. I would have been able to eventually deal with the trauma. Our parents should have raised you and you could be a ballerina. Mama has always wanted a dancer in the family; Jenny and I aren't capable of any form of classical dancing at the moment._

_I think you should know that Emily would have been important in your life, another sister, even if I had lived. Emily has always wanted a true family and we could have been that for her. So I apologize to both of you. I am sorry._

_I am going to mess everything up and for that I am so very sorry, but I just can hold on anymore. I'm drowning my princess and I have no raft or life preserver within reach, not that I would want one. I promise you that Emily tried very hard to save my life. It is exceedingly difficult for someone to be saved when they don't want to be. So please don't blame Emily. It is my fault, all my fault. I wish I could have stuck it out to meet you and then leave but it was not meant to be. I am so very tired my little faerie princess._

_I am resigned to my fate; I broke a geis, but you do not share my fate. If you do not know what that means, look it up or ask Emily or Jenny. Please don't ever give up, no matter what happens. It will take time but I know that you will have a wonderful life._

_I would like to leave you with a few pieces of advice since I won't get a change to raise you. Always keep your promises and do not ever make a promise that you cannot keep. Trust in genius and your family but be wary of dogs and sharks. Oh, I almost forgot, eat lots of blueberry pancakes but don't forget the chocolate chips if Jenny is eating with you._

_I love you so much Princess. I loved you before you were born, before you were even conceived. I loved you as soon as I knew who you were: my angel, my faerie princess. Take care of your family, of Emily and Jenny and whomever else you choose to include in that list._

_All my love,_

_Your big sister,_

_Jessica Joy Jareau_

* * *

After I have read and reread my letter, I hand it wordlessly to Emily. Who puts the letter down before she reads it this puzzles me. I thought she would want to read it the instant she was allowed. Instead Emily is reaching towards the bedside table and picking up a box of tissues. Why does Emily need tissues?

Emily wipes my cheeks and dabs at my eyes with the tissues.

Oh, they're not for Emily, they're for me. Apparently I have been crying and I didn't notice.

I guess I'm a little out of it. Jessie was real. I know that, I have known that all my life. But here is proof, an actual letter in Jessie's handwriting; one for Emily and one addressed to me. Even if I never knew Jessie, it is still nice to be wanted and now I know that she really did want me to exist.

I am puzzled by some of the things Jessie has said about me, but mostly about Emily. She wasn't completely accurate so maybe she was just a precocious teenager who dreamed of what might be, of what she wanted to happen.

I have no idea at the moment what the warnings are for but I do know what a geis is, it means a 'bond' or a prohibition. It is something like a curse or a blessing. A geis is tied in with one's fate or destiny, if you violate your geis, there are consequences, usually death. It is fictional, but if Jessie truly believed that she had broken a geis placed upon her, it is possible that she would have been unable to draw another conclusion but her death. This makes me feel unbearably sad. I don't know what to think anymore. I have some answers now, but still more questions.

I break out of my musings and look over at Emily. She has silent tears falling down her face after she reads Jessie's letter to me. I briefly hesitate before wiping hers tears away with a tissue, just as gently as she wiped mine away. She gently wraps me in her arms and I hug her fiercely, we both need this.

Emily folds both letters and puts them back in their rightful place before locking them up in the safe. I have become so tangled up between the blankets and the mess that is my mind, I almost don't let Emily get out of bed. Emily represents comfort, but not comfort that I would get from Spence or the calmness that comes from being around my sister. This is different. The way Emily comes back to bed slides my unresponsive body down and tucks me in under the covers; it seems almost parental.

When Emily climbs into bed and lies down next to me, the first and only movement I make is reach for her hand.

Emily grasps my hand tightly. "Good night Creirwy (kree-ree)," she says, "Goodnight little faerie princess."

I want to respond but I'm so tired that I can't get the words out of my mouth, so I just squeeze Emily's hand.

She squeezes back and I know that everything is going to be all right.

* * *

Sometimes there are no words,

no clever quotes to sum up what's happened that day.

Sometimes, the day just... ends.

- Aaron Hotchner, Season 4 Episodes 25x26 To Hell… And Back

* * *

AN4: I have an extra scene that didn't end up fitting in. If you would like to read it, please let me know.


	5. Once There Was A Tree

AN: You should go back and check out chapter 3 if you read it after Saturday. When I updated chapter 4, I accidentally updated chapter 3 instead. Thank you Sara for pointing that out.

AN2: This is the extra scene that I wanted to include in If You Survive, but it doesn't really fit where I wanted it to, so I changed it a little bit. I suppose you could think of it as an epilogue, taking place the following night.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor do I own Mumford & Sons or Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree.

* * *

But I will hold on hope

And I won't let you choke

On the noose around your neck

- Mumford & Sons, The Cave

* * *

Emily and Catherine both get out of Emily's bed. Catherine crosses the room, moving a small table under the window and Emily leaves the bedroom and returns with a bag of tea lights. She looks a little sheepish when she presents them to Catherine who has a raised eyebrow.

"I don't have enough candlesticks," Emily says without preamble.

The two women start putting the candles on the table.

"Do you still have matches Emmy?"

"Yes, but they're in the kitchen," When Emily turns around to leave, Catherine stops her.

"Don't bother, I have a lighter in my bag." Catherine walks over to the end of the bed, unzips her backpack and takes out a silver zippo lighter.

Emily's gaze follows Catherine's movements, "Have you taken up smoking Creirwy (kree-ree)?" Emily asks, both curiosity and censure colouring her voice.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Of course not Em, Jen would kill me."

Emily gives a slight cough.

Catherine smiles at Emily and amends her answer, "You would kill me as well."

"So why the lighter?" prompts Emily.

"Because fire is pretty," says Catherine in her best 'the answer is obvious' tone (be-cause fi-re is pre-tty).

Emily rolls her eyes.

As Catherine walks back to Emily, her playful nature disappears and is replaced by a solemn resignation.

Emily nods once to Catherine before she turns back to the table and continues to remove the tea candles from the plastic bag.

Catherine and Emily set up the tea lights in three ascending rows of seven. Then they light all twenty-one candles, whispering the name of each person for whom the candle is being lit together, "Matthew, Jessie, Beth, Harry, Cathy," and so on, one for each of the other children who were kidnapped alongside Catherine and who did not return home.

Catherine grabs two extra pillows from Emily's bed and she and Emily sit down on them, facing the lit candles. The two women sit side-by-side, leaning against each other, mesmerize by the flickering flames and caught in their memories.

Catherine leans away from Emily and stands up. She picks up her pillow, holding it against her chest; Catherine looks at Emily with her head slightly tilted.

Emily, who looked up when Catherine moved, nods.

Catherine lies down, her head resting on a pillow, on Emily's lap. She whispers, "I wish I had known you when I was little Emmy."

Emily runs her fingers through Catherine's hair, "I wish I could have been there for you Creirwy (kree-ree)."

Catherine bites her lip, "Do you think Jessie was right? Do you think that I would have grown up knowing you? That you would have been important from day one?"

"I don't know Creirwy (kree-ree)," Emily sighs. "I would like to think that if Jessie had lived, that you would have at least known about me, or even met me a few times."

"Would Jenny have let you see me if she had known?" Catherine frowns, "Does Jenny need to know now?"

Emily looks confused by Catherine's question, "Does she need to know what Creirwy (kree-ree)?"

"Does Jen need to know who you were?" asks Catherine, not expanding on her question or the desired answer.

Emily's brow furrows, "Who I was?"

Catherine sighs, "Who you were to Jessie?"

Emily makes a quiet humming sound before answering, "I don't know Creirwy (kree-ree). What do you think? Put yourself in JJ's shoes, would you want to know?"

Catherine shrugs, "In some ways I guess I would like to know about the connection but Emmy, I never met Jessie. I know about her but I don't know her. I don't know if I'm qualified to decide for Jenny. You should, you knew Jessie and you know Jen."

"I'll think about it Creirwy (kree-ree)," whispers Emily after a few minutes of quiet reflection.

"Emmy?" asks Catherine, breaking the silence.

"Yes Creirwy (kree-ree)?" answers Emily while smoothing Catherine's hair out of her face.

"What did you and Jessie do that day when you went to visit?" asks a curious Catherine.

Emily sighs, "Catherine."

"I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have asked you that. It's private. I'm sorry Emmy. I-"

Emily cuts Catherine off by tugging on her hair, "Stop that. Maybe one day I'll tell you about what Jessie and I did on the one day we spent together, but not tonight. Okay?"

"Okay Emmy. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," huffs Emily.

"Yes 'um. I'm s-" Catherine sighs.

Emily rolls her eyes and goes back to playing with Catherine's hair.

* * *

An hour or so later, Emily's legs have fallen asleep and she wants to get up and go to bed. Unfortunately, Catherine, who is still lying on the floor with her head in Emily's lap, is half asleep and unresponsive.

"Catherine!" says Emily, trying for the third time to get the younger woman's attention.

"Piss off mum," mutters Catherine, still staring at the flickering candles and not paying attention to Emily.

Emily's mouth drops open, "What did you just call me?"

Catherine sits up, blushes and looks away from the candles, "I'm sorry it just slipped out."

Emily closes her eyes and sighs quietly.

Catherine who is now paying attention looks furtively at Emily's face before answering, "I'm sorry Emmy. Really, I am. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to make you sad."

"It's nothing," says Emily defensively.

Catherine raises one eyebrow, "Really Emmy, it's obviously not nothing."

"Catherine," says Emily, a warning clear in her voice.

Catherine rolls her eyes and ignores Emily's warning, "Double negative Emmy, meaning something is wrong." Catherine gets up from the floor and starts blowing out the candles.

Emily looks thoughtful, "You've never called me mum before. Have-"

Catherine interrupts Emily, "If you don't like it, I won't do it ever again."

Emily raises an eyebrow, "Just like I'm never supposed to call you Dawnie again?"

Catherine makes a face and whines, "Emmy!"

Emily puts a finger to her lips and shushes Catherine, "Have you wanted too before?"

Catherine looks nervous, "Have I wanted to do what before?"

"Call me mum," whispers Emily as she reaches out and wraps her fingers around Catherine's arm.

Catherine flinches a little at the contact but shrugs in response to Emily's half-asked question.

"Creirwy (kree-ree)," sighs Emily.

Catherine pulls away from Emily, "What do you want me to say Emily?"

Emily looks solemn, "I would appreciate the truth Catherine."

"Fine," grounds out Catherine angrily before blushing, "It's how I refer to you in my head when I'm not calling you Emmy."

"Creirwy (kree-ree)," breathes out an astonished Emily.

"I can stop if you want or need me to Emily..." whispers Catherine.

Emily smiles, "No, I don't mind."

Catherine raises an eyebrow.

Emily's grin widens, "I really don't, I was just a little startled."

Catherine shrugs, "I could change the language if you want."

Emily ignores Catherine's comment, tilts her head and asks, "Is there a reason you're not calling me mama?"

Catherine's posture is tense, "I already had a mama. She wasn't the best but she was the only one I had. I'm not trying to replace her…"

"I understand," says Emily.

Catherine huffs, slightly annoyed, "No you don't, you always call your mama Ambassador or mother. So I couldn't call you mother either, you're always formal with her Emmy. Besides I don't like your mother very much Emmy."

Emily smirks, "What about mommy?"

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Really Emily? I'm not five."

Emily chuckles, "I am well aware that you are not five years old." Emily reminds Catherine, "You're still not finished your explanation."

Catherine sighs, "You're half a big sister and half a mom." Catherine pauses, "In some ways you're like the rest of the team. We're family and it's different with all of you."

"Cre-" starts Emily.

"No Emmy let me finish." Catherine rushes on, "Out of the entire team, you are the one most like Jen. She's always worrying about me and making sure I'm okay. You do the same thing."

"No I don't," protests Emily.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "Seriously Emmy, if Spencer notices it often enough to comment, it must be pretty damn obvious. Take it as a compliment."

Emily tries to change the subject, "Why don't you call JJ mom? She raised you, I didn't."

"You could have," shrugs Catherine.

Emily frowns, "But I didn't Catherine. I let Jessie down; I didn't meet you until you were sixteen. I missed so much."

Catherine smiles, "That's one of the reasons you'd make a great mum Emmy."

Emily rolls her eyes, "JJ Catherine, focus please."

"Another reason," teases Catherine. "Okay, so Jenny raised me but she was always my big sister. I never thought of her as a mother until I was a little older and realized just how much she did. I have no idea how she managed, she was twelve Emmy."

Emily purses her lips, "That isn't really an explanation Creirwy (kree-ree)."

Catherine sighs, "Jen was mine."

Emily looks confused and Catherine rushes to explain, "I had Jen to myself for the first four years of my life. When I wasn't calling her Jenny, I was calling her mine. She was mine Emily."

"Yours?" Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Sure, logically I know Jenny was Jessie's little sister first and my mama and daddy's middle child. But Jessie died and my parents were broken so I didn't have to share her with anyone. I was Jenny's and she was mine." Catherine smiles happily, "We were and still are a little possessive of each other."

Emily shakes her head.

Catherine frowns, "I know you don't understand the sibling bit Emmy, but surely you must understand the desire for control?"

Emily looks pointedly at Catherine.

Catherine ignores Emily, "Jenny named me Emmy. I have belonged to her since the day I was born. She has endeavored to protect me my entire life. I owe her so much. About the control thing Emmy, belonging to Jenny gave me a place in the world. I wasn't just the unwanted replacement child, whose parents couldn't stand to look at. I was the faerie princess; I was Jenny's baby sister. I was wanted. I was loved."

"I don't really understand," frowns Emily.

Catherine looks concerned, "Wasn't Jessie yours Emmy? Just like Matthew was?"

"Catherine," the warning is clear.

Catherine rolls her eyes, "I mean friends Emily."

"Catherine let it go," says Emily very firmly.

"Fine," pouts Catherine. She stands up and walks over to the windows. "Can we sit on the fire escape Emmy?"

"Not tonight Catherine, it's too cold. You'll get sick if we sit out there in the snow."

Catherine rolls her eyes at Emily's mothering gesture before her eye is caught by something in between the windows, mostly hidden behind the sheer curtains. She draws Emily's attention to it, "Hey Emmy, these are new, when did you draw them? Who are the girls in your sketches?"

Emily walks up to where Catherine is staring, looking at the framed sketches half hidden behind the curtains in her bedroom. Emily smiles, "I've always had them up there Catherine."

Catherine narrows her eyes, "No you haven't, I would have noticed them."

Emily snickers, "When I repainted the condo, I changed the colour of the curtains."

Catherine lets out an annoyed huff.

Emily points to the sketch on the left, "The little girl is you."

Catherine smiles softly, "Okay, how did you know what I looked like when I was little?"

"Jessie told me what you would look like," murmurs Emily.

Catherine turns around and hugs Emily tightly, "I'm sorry Emmy."

Emily hugs Catherine back before releasing her and half turning Catherine back to the sketch.

"Who's lap am I sitting on?" asks Catherine, clenching the side of Emily's pajama top in her hand.

"Mine," whispers Emily, not looking at Catherine.

Catherine tightens her hold on Emily's shirt, "When did you draw it?"

Emily frowns, thinking back, "I think you would have been three."

Catherine shifts her weight. Her entire body is tense as she asks, "Why did you draw it?"

Emily wraps an arm around Catherine, "I drew it because I wanted to remember what you looked like."

Catherine rests her head on Emily's shoulder.

Emily smiles, "When I submitted it to my art class, the professor thought that the little girl in the sketch was mine."

Catherine looks up with a smile on her face, "Love you Emmy."

Emily wraps her other arm around Catherine, "Love you too Creirwy (kree-ree)."

Catherine frowns, "Why did you put them up now? Who are the other people?"

Emily kisses the top of Catherine's head, "Bed time."

"But Emmy, what about the rest of my questions?" protest Catherine.

Emily yawns, "I'll tell you some other time Creirwy (kree-ree). Right now it's bedtime."

"Okay," says Catherine, she starts to walk away, hand still wrapped up in Emily's shirt.

Emily looks amused, "Creirwy (kree-ree), what are you doing? You have to let go of my shirt so that you can go to bed."

Catherine rolls her eyes, "All in good time Emmy."

Catherine tugs a little bit on Emily's pajama shirt and Emily follows along almost obediently. "Where are we going?" asks Emily as she is pulled out of her bedroom and out into the hall.

Catherine smirks, "To bed silly, you said it was bed time."

"Catherine, my bed is back there," says Emily, pointing to her open bedroom door.

"Yes it is," agrees Catherine amenably.

"So where are we going?" asks Emily.

"To bed," Catherine smiles, "My bed."

Emily snickers, "You want me to tuck you in?"

Catherine's heel accidentally steps on Emily's toes.

Emily cringes, "Ouch."

"Sorry," says Catherine, trying not to smile.

The two women enter Catherine's bedroom, Catherine drags Emily off to the side before spinning around and locking the door.

"Catherine what are you doing?" asks Emily, no longer looking amused.

Catherine smirks, "If you're going to make me go to bed so that I can sleep Emily Prentiss, you are damn well going to do the same. Unlike you, I slept for more than thirty minutes last night."

"Catherine," warns Emily.

"No Emmy. I am going to make sure you sleep, even if I have to handcuff you to the bed. I have the ones that Derek gave me for my birthday last year and Spence lent me his extra set. And if you still don't want to cooperate, I'll leave you cuffed and call Dave and tell him you won't be coming in Monday."

Emily grounds out, "You. Wouldn't. Dare."

Catherine's grin is all teeth when she responds, "Try me."

Emily sighs, looking defeated, her entire body slumps over.

Catherine is across the room in seconds, and holding Emily up soon after. Catherine leads Emily gently across the room and helps her slide into bed, under the blankets. Catherine climbs into the other side of the bed and curls up next to Emily.

"I miss both of them so much Creirwy (kree-ree)," Emily's voice is filled with emotion.

Catherine takes Emily's hand and squeezes it, "I know you do Emmy."

"Does it get better?" whispers Emily.

Catherine swallows, "It gets easier."

Emily sighs.

"You'll tell me when you're ready right?" asks an obviously worried Catherine.

Emily nods wordlessly.

Catherine rests her head on Emily's shoulder, "I'll tell you a story Emmy. It will help you fall asleep."

"I don't want to sleep Creirwy (kree-ree)," protests Emily.

Catherine laces her fingers through Emily's, "I know you don't Emmy but I'll be right here and I'll wake you up if you have a nightmare."

"Promise?" asks a mostly asleep Emily.

"I promise Emmy. Now for that story, '_Once there was a tree… and she loved a little boy…'_"

* * *

That's what moms are supposed to do.

They're not supposed to be the cause of your pain

they're supposed to make it go away.

They're supposed to hold you and,

tell you everything is going to be all right.

- JJ, Season 6x1, The Longest Night

* * *

AN3: Thanks for reading. If you would like to read about what happened in the meeting of Emily Prentiss and Jessica Jareau, that particular scene will be part of my next story, Maybe Baby. The first chapter will be posted Saturday June 16th 2012.

A link for Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree is on my profile.


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